jmgoyder

wings and things

Cauldrons and Cupcakes

Despite the fact that I don’t like cupcakes, or any cake for that matter, and I am a little nervous of cauldrons, I have been following this wonderful blog for some time. Cauldrons and Cupcakes is a blog about “creativity, spirituality & life,” written by a fantastic woman, Nicole Cody.

Recently I entered her ‘win a healing necklace’ competition simply by commenting on this particular post: http://cauldronsandcupcakes.com/2012/10/22/win-a-healing-necklace-made-especially-for-you/

Well, I won!!!!!! The necklace arrived yesterday and it’s beautiful. Here is what it looks like:

In Nicole’s handwritten card to me she explained that the darker pink stones are Pinks Tarmaline “for joy and happiness – and to bring back your passion for living – it’s a great antidote to grief, depression and loss”; the light pink stones are Rose Quartz “for unconditional love, nurture, heart healing and emotional soothing”; and the Pink Pearls are “for spiritual guidance, Angelic realm support and connection, and acceptance of what is.”

I am crazy about the necklace and can’t wait to show Anthony.

Thank you so much, Nicole!

Oh and you can find her here: http://cauldronsandcupcakes.com/

And guess what? She is Australian, like me – yeeha!

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Kindness

The word ‘kindness’ seems a little innocuous until you are a recipient.

Jen is someone who worked in a different area of the university from me and, over the years, she knew me best as the lecturer with the self-inflicted computer problems, and a fellow animal lover. She had never met Anthony but she knew about him from my blog. And she knew he suffered from Parkinson’s related temperature problems that affected his feet (either too cold or too hot constantly).

Well not only did Jen invite me over for coffee one day, she also made Anthony a lupin bag AND she visited Ants with me to give him this gift. I was amazed by her generosity.

Here is a paste of Jen’s description of the lupin bag:

Lupin bags:

Can be used as a heat pack or a cold pack.

Heat pack – heat in the microwave (turn while heating when using a larger bag)

Cold pack – leave in the freezer (I don’t get frostbite using a lupin bag as a cold pack straight from the freezer.)

Ways I have successfully used the heated lupin bag:

  • ·        Seated – sit with heated lupin bag under my feet or on my lap – keeps the whole body warm
  • ·        Seated at the computer with heated bag on my neck – back of the office chair helps keep the bag in place
  • ·        Bed – pre-warm bed or take to bed for extra warm toes/tummy/back//under knees etc
  • ·        Pain relief – sore backs, shoulders etc and applied to the area for any rectal pain from haemorrhoids etc.

Ways I have successfully used the cold lupin bag:

  • ·        On tummy or lap on very hot days
  • ·        At night in bed – assists with hot flushes
  • ·        My son sits at the computer with a cold lupin bag on his head as he says it assists in keep him cool.
  • ·        On injuries that need cold therapy

The lupin bag is in Anthony’s bedside cupboard for use when he gets the cold/hot feet syndrome (which is fairly constant), so this post is to thank Jen for her gift, her wisdom and her lupin-knowledge.

Kindness – you can’t beat it!


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God

Who is God?

Is God a she or a he or an  it?

What religion does God subscribe to?

Maybe God has become an atheist?

Why does God help some but not others?

Where does God go when your soul is severed?

Where does God go when the children suffer?

I want God so much.

I see, hear and touch God in the dewdrops, the birdsongs, the kiss of breeze, and my son’s laughter.

But that isn’t enough because the dew dries, the birds go silent, the breeze turns into a dusty wind, and my son’s laughter dies on the cusp of a punch-line I wasn’t quick enough for.

Who is God?

Why does God let us win at chess but lose at checkers?

I don’t understand what is going on.

The God I was brought up to believe in was a loving God, but that doesn’t make sense any more.

Yes, yes, yes, I know – it is all our fault, we poor stupid humans – we definitely stuffed up bigtime.

So why didn’t God rescue us from our follies?

Why didn’t God stop it all and begin again?

Who is God?

Where is God?

What is God?

Please….

I love you, God.

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Peafowl ‘prantics’!

Here is a link to a very short youtube of a guy in China using some sort of peafowl horn to call peas down from mountains. I definitely need to find this guy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iy_A3Tt8tcI

I looked online for one of these horn things but the one I thought would be good turned out to be an antique ornament and not a real one and, since then, I have given up because one of my blog friends suggested I imitate the call myself, so I have been doing that but now I’ve lost my voice!

Okay, so for anyone who needs a recap of the situation, it is mating season and a few of our adolescent peas are experiencing wanderlust and adventuring off  to forbidden territories (the neighbours’ roof). This has caused a fair bit of high drama:

Email from neighbours:

FOR SOME TIME NOW YOUR 3 PEACOCKS AND 20 ODD PEAHENS HAVE BEEN SPENDING MOST DAYS AND NIGHTS OVER HERE AND HAVE BEEN MAKING AN AWFUL MESS EVERYWHERE. THEY HAVE BEEN FLYING ON THE ROOF AND MESSING IN OUR DRINKING WATER. THIS IS NOT ACCEPTABLE!!!

PLEASE CONTAIN THE BIRDS ON YOUR SIDE OF THE FARM. SURELY, IF YOU KEEP EXOTIC BIRDS YOU SHOULD LOOK AFTER THEM PROPERLY. UNLESS YOU WANT THEM IMPOUNDED BY THE RANGER, I SUGGEST YOU KEEP THEM PENNED.

My response:

Don’t stress. Except for King and Queenie (the adult couple), this is their first mating season, so they’re experiencing a bit of wanderlust. It won’t last long. We only have a total of 15 peafowl (12 blues and 3 whites), so I have no idea where the others are coming from. I feed ours at around 5pm and they roost in the wattle trees at the back every night.

A further comforting response from me:

I think all of the peafowl are back here now. If they return to your place again, simply point a hose at them and shoo them away in our direction. You can hose them off the roof or out of the tree this way. If you do this to a peahen, the peacock will follow … As I said in my previous email, this wanderlust is a seasonal thing and will not last. However the girls may be looking for nesting spots so you will need to persevere with the above methods. I’ve rung and left a message with two peafowl-savvy friends who will come and get them if the‘problem’ persists. Some of them may need to be re-homed.

So sorry but, again, this is a passing phase and I have spoken to the ranger and he’ll alert me if you alert him. Much better, though, if you simply ring me.

Email from neighbours:

CONSIDERATION IS THE OPERATIVE WORD!!! Your Peafowl are over here all the time and it has gone far enough! They are making such a mess (as Ming saw), the worst thing is that they have polluted our drinking water by defecating on the roof and everywhere else. Advice from the Ranger and the Shire (Clause 480 of the local Govt. Act) is that we are to give you 7 days notice to remove your birds or we will dispose of them ourselves, one way or the other. It is a week since we notified you of this problem and has made no difference.

My response:

I’ve come to the conclusion that you actually like fighting with people – so sad. I don’t understand why you are so angry and miserable; it must be exhausting. Ah yes, the frolicking peafowl: I will take the seven days notice as of today, and make some phone-calls. There is a waiting list for peafowl so it shouldn’t be a problem to re-home some of them. Have you tried hosing them away, as I suggested, or even shooting the gun into the air? The latter is bound to work …. As I said before, this is a passing phase, due to mating season, and may require a bit of latitude on your part. Do you not have a water filter for your tank?

……

Now obviously I have omitted names from the above cut/paste, but you get the gist. Since then (due to reports to the ranger and his emails to interested parties), I have had several people ringing me who want the peas and I have finally decided the guy up the road with a more isolated property, and with a great sense of humour, is the one who I will give a few males to. Now we just have to catch them!

I sat outside tonight, as usual, and did the bread ritual and I counted 12 peafowl zooming up into the trees, so 3 are missing and I guess they are on the neighbours’ roof again – argh! I got Ming to ring and leave a message that all is in hand now. But somehow I feel this drama isn’t over!

Prince: What the hell is going on now?

I think Julie is in trouble again

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The email worked!

The email I sent myself included the following suggestions. Here are my ‘answers’!

Get your act together.

I am not an actor.

You are doing fine.

No, I’m not.

Make a great meal.

I made chicken noodle soup from scratch last night – will that do?

Go for a walk.

I walked around the house and around the yard twice.

Forget about your NanoWriMo failed attempt – get back to your half-written novella.

I think I may have trashed that novella.

Make a list of things you need to do and put it on the frig.

The list needs several frigs.

Recharge your camera and start taking photos again!

I am still searching for the recharging thingy.

Get the paper work sorted into categories and do NOT panic.

I have found all of the paperwork and placed it neatly into a box.

Try to conjure something to look forward to.

Fame and fortune.

Stop being so hard on yourself.

I’m not!

Stop sulking.

Okay.

Practise smiling in front of the mirror.

This was a very good idea but I think I need one of my teeth capped.

Keep going.

I am, you idiot!

…………………………………

Is talking to yourself the first sign of madness?

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A stern word

King: I have had a stern word with the boys and they have promised not to go over to the neighbours’ house again.
Me:Thanks, King.

Queenie: I have had a meeting with the girls this morning and told them that they must stay here.
Me: Thanks, Queenie.

Prince: Julie, we never go over to the neighbours’ place. It’s just those stupid blue peas that do that.

Princess 1: Yes, be assured, Julie – Princess 2 and I never leave here.

Peacock teen 1: I was just trying to get a bit of privacy with my girlfriend. How was I supposed to know I wasn’t allowed to go over the road?
Peacock teen 2: You’re not talking about Penny I hope.
Peacock teen 1: Yes, isn’t she gorgeous!
Peacock teen 2: Penny is my girlfriend, you idiot.
Peacock teen 1: Oh, sorry, they all look the same!

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‘Neighbours’

You know that very successful Australian soap opera, Neighbours? Well I have decided to audition for a part  in an episode I will write myself. It will have to be set just outside the town on a small rural property and the drama will unfold around my character’s peafowl frolicking on the neighbours’ roof, and the climax will be when the neigbours threaten to exterminate them. This could possibly be lengthened to three episodes.

Yes, this is tongue in cheek of course and the situation is real, not fictitious. Okay, for a week or so some of our peafowl have been wandering further afield than usual because, as I described in a previous post, we have an overabundance of males and the girls are trying to get away from all the attention. It is mating season. I thought they had stopped going over to the neighbours’ house and I have told them to hose them away or else shoot the gun into the air to scare them. I understand the neighbours’ irritation; people either love or hate peacocks. This elderly couple hate them. Their complaint is not unreasonable as the few that wander over fly onto their roof and poop so they are worried about their drinking water being contaminated. I suggested getting a water filter but that didn’t go down too well.

So, in response to two shouting emails from the neighbours (you know – emails that are capitalized and punctuated by lots of exclamation marks), I have made some calls and found several people who are willing to re-home a few of them (there are three that keep absconding). I am happy about this because I would rather re-home these renegades than have my neighbours shoot or poison them which is a definite possibility.

I don’t see this as a loss because when I purchased the unsexed chicks I didn’t know so many would be males, so it will be good to place them elsewhere so that the females aren’t so overwhelmed. Hopefully this will appease the neighbours’ wrath but I don’t think so because the wrath was already there. In fact, these are the very same people that I nicknamed ‘the horribles’ many posts ago. They absolutely love a fight and the peafowl are a wonderful opportunity. Unfortunately for them, I do not like fighting, so I have apologized and reassured them that someone will soon come and get the peafowl who like their roof so much. Problem solved.

I will ring the  executive producer of Neighbours right now – hahaha!

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Contingencies

A contingency is an unexpected or unpredicted event. I am sure there are deeper philosophical definitions but that’s who/how I see it.

So you cannot plan for contingencies because they just happen. I am learning how to be ready for them, to deal with them and to stop trying to figure them out.

Dementia is place where contingencies flourish, watered by leaking brain cells and lit by twilight. These contingencies are not funny or exciting like coincidences; they are cruel and cleverly shocking.

Over the last two evenings my phone conversations with Anthony have been disturbing as I described in yesterday’s posts.

So, later this afternoon, I am going to go into the nursing lodge and face this evening’s inevitable contingency with Anthony. We will have a small red wine with each other, I will make sure he eats his dinner (which he apparently refused last night), I will hug him and reassure him and I will talk to the staff and get their perspectives.

But I have a confession to make; I don’t want to do this because lately (despite the excursion out to the farm the other day), it is becoming an unpleasant experience for both of us. He makes accusations, begs to come home and sometimes rebuffs me – or else he clings to me, making us both weep when I leave to go home without him.

There must be a way of making this better – there must be. So many of my ideas have failed and, with each contingency, I have to rethink things again, over and over again, which is silly really because nobody can plan, organize, predict or be ready for a contingency.

And it seems self-indulgent to blog about a single situation when a hurricane had just devastated and killed so many, when millions are affected by ongoing wars, when children are being hurt, animals abandoned, forests dessimated – almost too overhwhelming to comprehend from my tiny little space of the here and now.

Once upon a time, Ants and I would have talked about these contingencies with gusto and passion because they were not our contingencies and we could philosophize from our coccoon of safeness.

Now we flutter, like moths with missing wings.

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The excursion

This morning, the nursing lodge bus came out at 10am with ‘the men’s group’. It was a great success!

Staff, residents and volunteers

Morning tea

Godfrey’s gang did their contortionist act but were outshone by an impromptu perfomance by the turkeys

Anthony and me

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Love story 113 – When a phonecall brings you to your knees

It is happening more and more often now – this evening phonecall from Anthony to tell me he is lost and asking me when I am coming to find him and bring him home.

Obviously it isn’t Ants who rings me because he has forgotten how so I usually speak to him and then to the nurse looking after him and then to him again.

It always ends up okay for him because I manage to reassure him and then the nurse reassures me too.

Usually I am okay because I know now that Ants’ evening confusion is pretty regular, and the staff are wonderful to ring me on his behalf.

But tonight, after reassuring Ants that I would see him tomorrow and him saying, “Okay, my beautiful girl”, I hung the phone up and my knees buckled.

I got up and went outside to feed the birds and  they surrounded me while I threw bread, distributed wheat, and sobbed for my lost husband.

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